A/N: I hope you all had a great weekend. Mine was pretty OK, if you discount last nights mega tantrum from the llama toddler. After that I definitely need some me time for writing. Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to ask me any questions you have in the review section.


Chapter Four: The Plan

May 23, 1997

Hermione spent the rest of the week pretending things were normal. She avoided the library (though she was sure Madame Pince wouldn't have admitted her even if she'd begged) and spent her time revising in the common room between classes and late into the evenings. Harry was occupied with Ginny often enough that he didn't seem to notice her renewed dedication to schoolwork, but Ron, who was being more observant than Hermione had ever seen him, had asked her whether anything was bothering her. She had forced a smile and shaken her head.

"No, I'm sorry, Ron. I'm just worried about exams. You ought to be studying as well, you know." Ron, seemingly satisfied with her answer had shrugged and made some sort of quidditch excuse before leaving her alone once more.

Friday evening found Hermione still by the common room fire, this time studying her ancient runes text and practicing translations on a spare bit of parchment she'd found stuffed in its pages.

"Don't you have detention tonight?" Hermione looked up, eyes adjusting after staring at pages full of small print for the last several hours. Harry was sitting beside her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face turned toward hers. His messy black hair looked windswept and his scar was only partially obscured by his bangs. He looked like he'd just gotten back from flying on his broomstick.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Detention. With Snape. That's tonight, isn't it?"

Hermione looked down at her wristwatch. It had been a gift from her mother before she'd left for Hogwarts. Only now did she realize that the antique and delicate silver timepiece had replaced an electronic one which wouldn't have functioned amidst all of the swirling magic in the castle. Of course her mother had known that.

"Yes," said Hermione, noting it was ten to eight and smiling back at Harry. "Thanks. I was a bit caught up here." Harry smiled back at her and nodded.

"Yeah, you've been really into the books this week. Ron's a little worried you're working too hard, I think."

Hermione rolled her eyes and finished packing her bag. "Ron wouldn't understand studying hard if he were trapped in the library with a pack of Ravenclaws for a week."

Harry chuckled and agreed, offering to have Ginny take her bag up to her room so Hermione didn't have to lug it to detention with her. Agreeing, she thanked him and made her way out of the common room, checking her watch as she went. She had only five minutes left to reach Snape's office and so she walked quickly, making it to his door just as the hour struck and knocking loudly so she couldn't be accused of tardiness.

"Enter," Hermione heard Snape's voice from behind the door. She let it swing forward before walking in stiffly. The first thing she noticed was Professor Snape facing the fireplace with his back to the door. He looked just as uncomfortable as she was, his arms crossed and his back completely straight. The next thing she realized was that he wasn't the only other person in the room.

"Miss Granger." The headmaster spoke from behind Snape's desk where he sat with his elbows on its wooden surface, hands steepled in front of him. "Good evening."

Hermione hesitated in the middle of the room, glancing from Dumbledore to the back of Snape's head and at Dumbledore once more.

"Please, sit," said the headmaster, motioning to the seat across from him. He had obviously had a hand in transfiguring it, because where she remembered there being a spindly and uncomfortable seat sat a cozy chintz arm chair. Hermione took the seat, feeling herself sink into it and sitting up as straight as she could despite the lack of real support and the fact that her knees were practically level with her navel.

"I appreciate you coming here this evening," began Dumbledore, "And while I'm sure you were looking forward to serving detention quite as much as Professor Snape was to having his Potions stores organized, I must regretfully inform you that I have commandeered this time and wish to use it not for service to the school, but for discussion." Here he paused as if to allow for dissension, and when none was forthcoming he continued. "I understand, Hermione, that after events earlier this week, you must have had quite a lot on your mind. I assure you that the same issue has weighed heavily on me as well, though I do not wish to compare your confusion and disappointment to my thoughts. I only wish to express to you that this newfound knowledge has been of great concern to me and I have considered it diligently, as, I am sure, have you."

Hermione stared blankly at the headmaster, not quite sure how to respond other than to nod once and squeeze the arms of the chair to keep from leaping from her seat and running out of the room. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. She'd spent the week studiously ignoring the topic and pretending, as Snape had suggested, that it was a non-issue. But having Professor Dumbledore here, insisting on discussing the one thing that had managed to send her into a panicked spiral of confusion and anger, was making avoidance impossible.

"I'm sure you have considered more than a little the impact this news might have on your life. To be one moment Hermione Granger and the next some unknown person descended from strangers-" Hermione looked up sharply and spoke without preamble.

"I'm still Hermione Granger, Professor." She said, her voice clear and forceful. "Whoever fathered me, I'm still myself."

From across the wide expanse of solid desk, Professor Dumbledore beamed at her.

"Of course you are," he agreed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach, "and I am glad of it indeed." His eyes seemed to twinkle as he observed her, sitting as stiffly as her sagging seat allowed and clenching her fists at her sides. Hermione had the uncomfortable feeling that he was waiting for her to do or say something more, and she hadn't the slightest clue what that might be.

"Hermione," he spoke at last, "would I be correct in assuming that despite this shocking turn of events, you remain dedicated to your friends, and to their cause?" Hermione's brow furrowed at the question and she felt more than a little offended that both Snape and Dumbledore seemed to think finding out she was related to the most evil wizard in the world could mean she was somehow less inclined to see him defeated.

"Yes," she replied stiffly, gritting her teeth and scowling at Dumbledore where he sat. The old man merely smiled back at her, looking delighted.

"Perfect. To that end, Miss Granger, I think we have available to us two different courses of action." Behind her, Hermione heard Professor Snape scoff. She glanced in his direction and could see he was no longer facing the fire, but Dumbledore. His face looked quite as disgruntled as his posture suggested, and the frown lines above his eyes were deep vertical slashes.

"First," said Dumbledore, "We can continue as we have been. You would remain Hermione Granger, helping Harry to achieve the great task set to him, contributing your wealth of knowledge and talent to your friends openly and without reservation." To Hermione, this seemed the only option. What else could she do? To reveal her secret to her friends would be disaster. She couldn't imagine it to be a thing Harry could dismiss or Ron could ignore. To remain where and who she was, her only choice was to stay silent. Hadn't Snape said as much just days before?

"Your second option, Miss. Granger, is somewhat more complicated, though I believe it has benefits which might help our cause more than you might now imagine possible." Again, Snape made a noise of distaste. Hermione heard his robes billow as he whirled back to face the fire. Dumbledore glanced at him and then back at Hermione. "Professor Snape has understandable reservations about this plan. I must ask you though, to keep your mind open and to not interrupt as I explain it, so that both of your options might be fully understood, the benefits and drawbacks weighed against your priorities. Can you agree to that, Hermione?"

She stared back at the headmaster, her brown eyes meeting his blue which held not a trace of twinkle at the moment. He looked serious, concerned, and in complete earnest. She nodded once and waited for him to continue. He did not make her wait long.

"I am dying," said Dumbledore abruptly. The words went through Hermione like a lightning bolt, shocking her completely and leaving her speechless. The great Albus Dumbledore was dying? "I have another year at the very most, though I fear Death will call before this year ends. It is important that you know this, Hermione, because no matter your choice here tonight, I will still die soon. You do not hold my life in your hands, and you are not responsible for my end. Do you understand?" She didn't, not really, but Hermione nodded anyway.

"Good," said Professor Dumbledore, "The second thing you should know is that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, and has been ordered by Voldemort to kill me. Professor Snape and I believe this is not his desire, but given the fact that his parents are currently being forced to play host to their master, we believe he thinks he has no other choice. Indeed until now, he may not have. And third, at my order, Professor Snape has sworn an unbreakable vow to kill me should Draco fail."

Hermione gasped. An unbreakable vow! She had never imagined undertaking such an oath herself, she had studied them several years before and been horrified. The images drawn beside the explanation had illustrated the consequences of not fulfilling such an oath, and they had been grotesque. To break an unbreakable vow by choice or circumstance, was death.

"You see," continued Dumbledore, "my life is of little consequence if Severus cannot keep his position in Voldemort's ranks. Having him as a spy is crucial to our success. I had planned merely to take my leave a little earlier than nature would perhaps demand, to ensure Severus's position… but then, Hermione, another opportunity presented itself to us in the form of a startlingly talented young witch who also happens to be the lost child of our enemy."

"Me," said Hermione, her voice barely an echo in her ears.

"You," spat Snape from his place by the fireplace, whirling to face her. "You with your ridiculously Gryffindor sense of loyalty and your idiotic need to-"

"Severus!" Dumbledore spoke sharply and Snape stopped his advance, shooting one last glare in Hermione's direction before returning to his spot beside the fire abruptly.

"You cannot know how much Voldemort valued your existence, Hermione, or how enraged he was at the disappearance of your mother," said Dumbledore, his voice soft once more. "You were a crucial point in securing his total power, a solid link between him and the pureblood families he looked to rule. His servants searched high and low for any sign of Annora Avery and when they failed, he punished them severely. The man who returned you to him, Hermione, would be rewarded liberally, and woulgf I think, earn Voldemort's trust and a measure of whatever devotion he is capable."

It was at that point that Hermione understood Dumbledore's plan. She watched him as he surveyed her, waiting for some reaction, but she couldn't bring herself to move an inch much less speak. The horror she felt was too overwhelming.

"What I wish to propose, Miss. Granger, is not something to be taken lightly. It would change your life irrevocably and immediately. It would place you in danger more real than you have ever experienced before… but it would also allow us the edge I believe we need to defeat Voldemort once and for all."

From the other side of the room came Snape's voice, low but perfectly understandable.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus. Be blunt with the girl." He turned to face her once more, his features blank, his arms hanging loosely by his side. "The Headmaster wants to let me give you to The Dark Lord, Miss Granger. He hopes this will allow me to retain my position within his ranks when neither I nor Malfoy succeed in murdering him, which will in turn allow the Headmaster to live past the end of the school year and assist Potter in whatever insurmountable task he has set him. Only when he is finally at death's door and can no longer avoid his end will I then be called upon to fulfill my vow. He hopes, I am sure, that the Dark Lord will have been defeated by this point."

When Snape had finished speaking, Hermione looked from him to Dumbledore. The old man's face was apologetic but determined.

"I'm afraid though the delivery was somewhat more blunt than I may have prefered, Severus has not lied. I believe that I am on the very edge of finding the key to Voldemort's downfall, a key which only Harry can turn."

"You mean the Horcruxes," said Hermione bluntly. Beside her, she heard Snape's breath catch. Dumbledore's face froze before he nodded slowly.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he answered, his voice soft. "And I believe that with a little more time, I will be able to help Harry in his task, winning this war more quickly and with less casualties than would otherwise be possible."

"And all you need to accomplish that is for me to let Voldemort kill me." Hermione's voice sounded harsh and foreign to her own ears, though she felt justified in her tone of voice considering what her headmaster had just asked of her.

"No," answered Dumbledore vehemently. "No, if I thought he would do any such thing, I would never suggest the deception. You are too valuable to him, however twisted his soul might be. He will not have fatherly affection for you, but the blood that runs through your veins is the blood of Salazar Slytherin, and is more precious to him, I think, than the blood of one thousand pureblood servants. Severus assures me that Voldemort is… incapable of producing more children since his return. You are his only chance at the dynasty he once dreamed of. Your upbringing, even your antipathy for him will not be enough to endanger your life. Especially if you allow him to see any doubt about your muggle life, any chance you might be swayed to his side."

"There is no chance!" hissed Hermione, springing finally from her seat and slamming her fist on the desk between herself and the Headmaster. "None! I don't give a damn whose blood I've got in me, I could never, ever sympathize with a murderer like him!" Her breath was coming out in ragged spurts now and her eyes were blurry though she wasn't sure why until the first tear drop hit her hand on the surface in front of her. When she looked back up, Dumbledore's gaze was meeting hers warmly.

"No, of course there isn't," he agreed softly, "If I thought there was, we would not be having this conversation. I am not asking you to be honest with Voldemort, Miss. Granger, I am asking you to practice subterfuge and misdirection, to assist Professor Snape in his work as spy and allow me the time to help Harry to defeat Tom Riddle once and for all."

From where she stood, Hermione could see no reservation in the Headmaster's face. He did not look as if he doubted her or expected her to turn dark. He didn't even look like he was expecting her to go along with his plan.

And then there was Snape, standing off to the side, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed. He looked haughty and proud, offended even at the implication that a school-girl could somehow help him in his dangerous task. There was no challenge in his eyes now, only derision, as if he fully expected her to turn tail and run at Dumbledore's request. He did not think her brave or capable; his doubt was written across his face along with his disdain for even extending the option.

"How would this change my life?" Hermione asked, ripping her gaze from Snape and focusing determinedly on Professor Dumbledore. "Would Voldemort want to keep me with him and the Death Eaters?"

"You can't be serious," came Snape's stunned reply.

"I think perhaps this is the sort of question Professor Snape might be more capable of answering," responded Dumbledore. "Severus?"

"Albus, you can't honestly believe this girl-"

"I believe we have already had this conversation, Severus," said Dumbledore sharply, "and you know my opinion."

Hermione glanced back up at Snape who was looking now as if he'd swallowed something entirely unpleasant and was suffering the after effects. Nostrils flaring and eyes flashing, the man looked back at her, striding forward until he was standing right in front of her, glaring down his hooked nose directly into her eyes.

"I think that if he believes you to have mixed feelings concerning your parentage, the Dark Lord would allow you to return to Hogwarts. He would seek to manipulate you and work through your desires in an attempt to seduce you to his side. He has never bent people to his will through torture, Miss Granger. We all came to him willingly, and he will want the same from you."

"And how am I supposed to convince him there's something… redeemable, about me?" asked Hermione. All she could feel for Voldemort now was revulsion, and she couldn't imagine that changing. What if when she finally stood before him that was all he could see, if he found her completely lacking and decided she wasn't worth the work it would take to turn her into his heir or whatever it was he was after? She felt her heart racing as a vision of his wand coming down at her played in her mind. She felt sick.

Snape shrugged, breaking their gaze and stepping back to lean against the desk beside her. "By telling him the truth. You could do nothing more. Let him see your disappoint at your mother's lie, your confusion and resentment that your status in the world has changed. These feelings are easily twisted and he will see the opportunity."

"And if all I can do is tell him the truth, how am I supposed to keep this plan from him?" asked Hermione, pointing out what she thought was an immediate and obvious flaw in the plan, her stomach settling somewhat but her pulse still racing.

From behind the desk, Dumbledore spoke. "Prior to sending you to meet with Voldemort, Professor Snape will assist you in creating Occlumency shields behind which you will be able to effectively store memories which might be detrimental to our cause. This is how we will ensure Voldemort does not learn that we know about his Horcruxes, and how we will keep my full involvement in this plan secret."

"Won't Voldemort notice if I've got big walls in my head blocking access to certain parts of my brain?" Snape scoffed and Hermione shot a glare his way. "What?" She demanded, "Have I said something amusing?"

"No, Miss Granger," he sneered. "Only demonstrated how ill suited you are to this task. An Occlumency shield is nothing like a wall. It is instead a series of memories which are manipulated magically and bound to other, less desirable memories. Think of it as plating a less precious metal with gold. The dangerous memory is hidden within the more attractive memory and becomes invisible to observers."

"Oh," said Hermione, not sure what else to say. For every question she had, there seemed to be an answer. It seemed as if Dumbledore really had given this a great deal of thought. And then something else occurred to her and her eyes widened and she felt herself begin to panic once more.

"Professor!" she exclaimed. "What about my parents? If I go to Voldemort won't he go after my mother?!" And she decided immediately if that were the case, she'd rather go into hiding with her mother and father than allow anything to happen to them.

"No, Miss Granger," Dumbledore assured her. "Before you are sent to him, your parents will be sent into hiding. They will disappear, even from you."

"Oh," Hermione said again, this time relieved. "That's good. Well then, it seems as if you have everything worked out."

Dumbledore inclined his head toward her. "As I said, this issue has weighed heavily on me as well. I have given it my full attention." Hermione nodded and sat back down in the squashy chintz arm chair behind her, unable to keep herself upright with so much weighing on her at once. And so she focused instead on Snape, who was leaning against the edge of his own desk, arms crossed and lips pinched together tightly. She noticed the uncharacteristically dark circles under his eyes and wondered whether he had been giving it a lot of thought as well. He didn't really seem in favor of the plan, but she wasn't sure whether that was because he didn't think it would work or because he didn't think she was capable of it. Either way, she thought she might agree with him. Her eyes fluttered shut as she thought. So much could go wrong. Even if Voldemort didn't kill her, Dumbledore could still die before he was defeated, and then where would they be? Would her friends find out and think her a traitor just as they did Snape? Would she be smart enough, strong enough… cunning enough to pull off her part? Could she convince Voldemort she was worth 'rehabilitating'? And worst of all, what if the lure of knowing more about who she really was proved too much and she really was seduced by whatever Voldemort was offering? It had happened to Snape and every other Death Eater… why not her?

Because your parents are Jean and Henry Granger and you are a muggleborn and you could never be anyone else. The voice in her head was soft but insistent, and at its words, Hermione's eyes flew open.

"Okay," she heard herself say.

Across from her, Dumbledore nodded and stood.

"I appreciate you giving this serious thought, Hermione," he began, "It is a plan I think which could sway the outcome of this war more firmly in our direction. I think as you consider-"

"No, professor, I think you've misunderstood," she interrupted, standing as well. "I meant, 'Okay, I'll do it.'"

"You can't be serious," burst out Professor Snape, standing up to his full height and towering over her by a foot. She had to really focus to keep herself from cringing. "Of all the ridiculous and foolhardy things you and your brain-addled Gryffindor friends have done, this is the most idiotic."

"Severus-"

"No, Albus, I will not be silenced! I have been vetoed at every stage of your planning and I cannot stand by and allow this stupid girl to believe she is making some noble sacrifice." At this, he whirled back to face Hermione, leaning down until he was shouting in her face. "The very best outcome you can hope for, Miss Granger, is that you will be allowed by your father to return to school and act as a double agent, and that in so doing you will provide the headmaster with a few extra months of life with which to possibly help Potter succeed in destroying horcruxes bloody fucking plural." Here he shot a dark look at Dumbledore before rounding once more on Hermione, "And the worst you can expect is that Voldemort will imprison or Imperius you into submission until such time as he kills all of your friends and family, at which point he will begin to reeducate you." He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and full of fire as he scowled at her. "Nothing is assured here, Miss Granger; you agree at your own very great risk."

Hermione's eyes darted back and forth across Snape's face as he glared down at her. He was breathing heavily, his expression thunderous. Was he trying to scare her off or impress upon her all of the possibilities were she to agree?

"If the plan succeeds, though, will it give Harry a better shot?" she asked finally, voice soft.

Snapes eyes widened even more and she saw his lips clench together once again before he spoke in a sneer.

"Yes," he said grudgingly. "It would."

Hermione forced a smile.

"Then I'll do it," she said.

She thought the look on Professor Snape's face was quite worth the declaration, even if she did feel like she was going to vomit.